speculum speculorum
by dyingwill
Summary: 8: Sakura wants a painting made of dawn. Sasuke obliges.
1. treasure

**Title:** swashbuckler

**Theme:** fantasy, #37 treasure

**Word Count:** 659

* * *

"Well, well, well, look what we've got here?"

Sakura, despite her awkward situation (she had hid herself in a wooden barrel when the pirates attacked her father's ship; it was a tight fit, but she fit nonetheless), lifted her head high, and properly sneered at the pirate with strange red triangles tattooed on his cheeks. She was a noble, daughter of the Mayor of their little town on the edge of Fire Country, and she was _not_ going to be treated this way.

"Stay away from me, you barbarian," she said angrily, and made an attempt to curl in a smaller ball, away from the man's grabby hands reaching into her barrel. His hands rummaged around, grappling at her, and nearly tearing off the sleeve of her (gorgeous, terribly expensive muslin) dress. Sakura breathed out in relief when he finally withdrew with a curse on his lips, but her ease was short-lived, as all of a sudden, her barrel toppled over, and she with it. She landed painfully onto the wooden deck, and when the pirate heaved her over his shoulder, like a potato sack, she let out an indignant gasp, which was immediately muffled as her head collided with his lean back.

"Unhand me, you heathen!" she screeched into his ear, and a little part of her grinned smugly at the sight of his wince. She began pounding her little fists onto his back, but he didn't do anything but laugh at her weak attempts. With another fiery shout, she began to struggle as much as she could, trying to get out of his grasp.

"Shut up!" the pirate hissed, covering her mouth with his hand. She looked disgusted for a moment at what she was going to do—who knew where those hands have been—but nevertheless sunk her teeth into his palm. The man yelled in pain, dropping her onto the hard deck. She immediately tried to scramble away, make a run for it, but her efforts were stopped when a heavy boot planted itself in the maroon tresses of her dress. Paling considerably, Sakura's eyes focused on that blasted boot that had hindered her escape plan, and trailed upward, to the leg that the boot was connected to, to the body, which was fit and—_shut up, right now, Sakura!_ she thought, commanding herself harshly to put a halt to her train of thought before something bad happened.

Not that what was happening right now was anything besides a disaster, of course.

Mentally scolding herself for her indecent thoughts (she was a _lady_, for God's sake!), she looked up at her captor, only to be shocked into submission.

_Man_, this guy was _pretty_. His looks rivaled that of a Greek god, with artfully messy black hair, deep, mesmerizing onyx eyes, and a pale, unblemished complexion, which should have been anything but, seeing as he was a pirate, and undoubtedly spent most of his time under the glare of the sun. His face was perfectly proportional, with sharp, aristocratic features, and his lips—oh God, his _lips_—

_Stop it!_ she mentally berated herself again, almost bringing up her hand to physically slap her into reality, which would've directed a few odd stares her way. This was her enemy. She should be attacking him with full force (or at least running away as fast as she could), not bloody ogling him like a blushing schoolgirl!

Snapped back into attention, Sakura twisted her pretty features into a scowl. "Let me go."

The unbelievably dashing man gave her a devilish smirk that made her knees tremble, even though she was on the ground, and he bent down to look her right in the face. His voice was so _deep_ and _husky_ and—

"Tell me where the treasure is, and you might just get to escape from here in one piece—that is," his eyes glinted maliciously, sending shivers down her spine, "if you're still alive by then."

Well, _shit_.


	2. exotic

**Title:** atlantis

**Theme:** fantasy, #24 exotic

**Notes:** So, uh, sorry for confusing you guys. This isn't a chaptered fic; it's a collection of short stories that are written on prompts. In this case, it's 'exotic.' Sorry. All are unrelated to each other, unless of course, I say so.

**Word Count:** 677

* * *

They were welcomed to the village of Konoha with open arms. In fact, upon their arrival, they were horded by Leaf villagers, who stared at them in fascination, as if they were strange creatures they had never seen before.

Well, in a way, they were. With their strange clothing—long, dusty cloaks and aviator's goggles, baggy cargo pants and tops worn with travel—they stood out phenomenally amongst the Konoha civilians, with their colorful sashes and body paint. They had the strangest hair colors as well; blue, and green and a bright red, amongst them. Most females wore sequined bandannas, and the males, though dressed in less exuberantly vibrant attire, each had a curious dagger attached at the belt, for precautionary measures, Sasuke assumed.

The Leaf people were a friendly bunch, warm and welcoming to Sasuke and his crew. They had eagerly taken him and his men around the small village, introducing them to the beautiful wonders of their world. The streets of Konoha were crowded with strange creatures (Naruto had pointed out, in fascination, a kangaroo-resembling animal, with a long snout and striped blue fur that bounced around Konoha children on its back) and vendors shouting out their wares. Exotic smells wafted from various little stalls, scents of spices and herbs Sasuke had never even heard of tempting his senses.

Konoha, the village of the Leaf, was appropriately named as such. The place was like one big garden, trees and greenery making up the tiny village's landscape. No wonder they had never been disturbed by other civilizations; no one could find them. Settled comfortably in the mysterious depths of the jungle, where no one had ever ventured before (aside from himself, he thought with pride), the people had never been introduced to others not of their own kind.

In a way, this was a good thing; the people of Konoha had not discovered oil, or how the extent of the usefulness of machinery could extend to, but they related beautifully with nature—something that, although Sasuke trusted in the progress of his country, did not believe capable of his countrymen.

Still, the only reason why Uchiha Sasuke and the crew had arrived in Konoha was to share progress. Development. That was what he aimed for. He would discover new things from Konoha, bring it back to his home country and share what he had learned from the natives of a land far, far away—the most beautiful place you had ever seen, people with absolutely bizarre hair colors, dressed in all the colors of the rainbow— a place you might never be able to see again, he would tell the children of the village. They would look up at him with excited eyes, begging him to tell the story of his journey through land, water and air—all to reach Konoha, the village hidden in the leaves.

And a journey it was, indeed. It was no easy feat, reaching their desired destination. It had taken Sasuke hours of studious research, deciphering coded maps and scrolls, until he had made a fantastic breakthrough, called up a group of his most trusted, capable men, and set out to discover new land.

The way there was perilous, however. With dangerous animals and an environment they were not used to, the expedition nearly cost them their lives. Unfortunately, there were a few who were lost during the voyage, and Sasuke had saluted them, commending them for their bravery and excellence.

They have finally made it, and their mission was complete.

Well, almost.

The villagers of Konoha were absolutely friendly, hospitable—but that couldn't be said of the princess of Konoha, who was rumored to be hostile to strangers. Without her approval, Sasuke and his crew wouldn't be able to learn more about the Leaf culture, and couldn't bring it back home to share with their fellow men. But they had gone too far, and worked too hard, and lost too many people to give up now.

The only person standing in their way was the princess herself.

Princess Sakura Haruno.


	3. demon

**Title:** covenant

**Theme:** fantasy, #43 demon

**Note:** Kuroshitsuji, anyone? :)

**Word Count:** 713

* * *

Sakura sighed, rubbing her temples wearily. Taking a break from her paperwork, she rang the bell near her desk, feeling the need for some good tea—and maybe some dessert, while she was at it.

In not less than fifteen seconds later, there was a knock on the door, and Uchiha Sasuke stepped in, already wheeling in a cart of Earl Grey tea and an apple and raisin dip pie into the study.

Sakura grinned at him, thanking him cheerily as he poured her a cup of tea. "Excellent as usual, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke's calm black eyes eyed her for a moment, before he inclined his head slightly. "Hn, milady," his smooth, baritone voice sounded, causing a hot rush of _something_ coursing down Sakura's veins. She smiled at him again sheepishly, accepting the porcelain cup and taking a sip.

Sasuke remained in the room, silent and waiting for any command. Sakura rolled her eyes. "You can go now, Sasuke-kun. Shut the door on the way out."

The tall young man inclined his head again, turning on his heel and striding across the room and out the door. The door shut with a quiet 'click' and Sakura reluctantly submerged herself in her paperwork again. Several hours later, the last of the party invitations was properly declined, with an apologetic (although not sincerely so) letter accompanying it. Undoubtedly, there would still be more to come—more parties and troublesome balls to decline. It was vexing just having to reject them. But the season was nearly over, Sakura reminded herself; she just had to bear it for a few more weeks.

With another weary sigh, Sakura leaned back into her arm chair and stretched her arms. Being the head of the Haruno family, a fact undisclosed to many, was a rather tiring job. Imagine, though, if people had found out that the head of the household of Haruno was a mere woman! And someone as young as her, to boot. Oh, how scandalous that would be. And though Sakura cared least of what society thought of her, she would not steep so low as to degrade her family's name. It was convenient, however, that she needn't attend social gatherings (unless absolutely mandatory) at Almack's, or so and so's townhouse. To be introduced to so many people, to potential marriage candidates even, it was simply unthinkable for Sakura.

At least her work was finally finished with, she thought happily. Perhaps she could call over Shikamaru, and engage him in a game of chess.

Standing up from her chair, in her hurried actions, Sakura knocked off the stack of papers sitting on her desk. Cursing extensively at her foolishness, something she would have been scolded harshly for, if any of her childhood tutors had heard (it was horribly unladylike, apparently), she dropped to the floor, trying to gather as much of the pieces of paper as she could into her arms.

Something had caught her eye, though and she picked it up: a pure white envelope, sealed with a red wax. Sakura blinked at it curiously. It didn't really look like an invitation to a party, and she hadn't noticed it amongst the other letters...

* * *

It was early the next morning when Sasuke entered his lady's chambers to wake her up, only to be startled to see her already awake, struggling to put on her clothes. His emotionless face only faltered a moment, before, regaining his composure, he helped his mistress lace up her knee-high boots and placed her long green velvet overcoat over her shoulders. Sakura stared at herself in the mirror, adjusted her top hat a little on her head, and beamed.

"My cane, please," she said, holding her hand out to him. Obediently, he placed her walking stick in her hand, the gleaming head of a snake curled around her fist, ruby eyes gleaming.

With one last assured glimpse into her looking glass, Sakura turned and left the room, her coat flapping outwards. Sasuke followed her, silent and unquestioning as usual, always one step behind her, but never did he allow himself to walk alongside. He was her shadow; it was his duty to keep her safe.

After all, they had made a contract.

And demons like him were quite unable to break such vows.


	4. magic carpet

**Title:** spring cleaning

**Theme:** fantasy, #47 magic carpet

**Notes:** Hint of SasuSaku; mostly Naruto and Sakura interaction. Because they are the bestest of friends and you cannot deny this fact. ;) Also, I barely managed to squeeze in the magic carpet part in there. Irrelevant.

**Word Count:** 403

* * *

"No!"

"But Sakura-chaaaan," Naruto whined, pleading at the medic with big, watery eyes. His bottom lip jutted out for extra effect.

Sakura scoffed and turned away from the blonde, her mind concentrated on finishing her miso ramen, paying her (and Naruto's, since the dobe didn't bring any money, _again_) bill, and leaving before he could try and persuade her to do his laundry for him.

It was during these rare times that she wished Naruto would pay more attention to ramen then he did her.

"No way, you idiot. Like I'll spend my Saturday cleaning up _your_ apartment!" She shot him a look. "And you _know_ I never get day offs like this. Shishou always uses up every chance she gets to work me to the bone. Besides, weren't you the one who went and visited the hospital last Thursday, moaning about how I 'didn't spend enough time with you?'"

"Sasuke went too," Naruto pouted. "And I meant you didn't spend enough time with Team Seven. Most especially me. You never come to training anymore and I never have anyone to talk to. Kakashi-sensei is too busy with that book of his and Sasuke-teme is such an asshole most of the time!"

"Try all the time," Sakura said dryly, rolling her eyes. "I've got my medic duties, Naruto. I can't exactly skip out on them. And I do train!" Her eyes flashed. "I train everyday, after work in the hospital, in the training grounds when all you guys are done with it. You just don't see me."

"Oh, we do see you," Naruto commented amiably, twirling his chopsticks in the air. "Well, Teme's the one who stalks you after training. Seriously, that bastard must've really hid his chakra well if you haven't sensed him yet already..."

"What?" Sakura said, wide-eyed.

"Oh," Naruto said hastily, "it's nothing. Forget I said anything." He turned away from her, smacking his forehead with his palm. "Dammit! I forgot I wasn't supposed to tell her about that... shit, Teme's gonna kill me!"

"You don't think I can't hear you?" Sakura said wryly.

"What? What were we talking about?" Naruto said nervously, scratching his blonde head. "Anyways, so, how about that spring cleaning? I swear, I've got this magic carpet that totally flies, and I could take you out on a ride, if you want, but we've gotta clean it first, so what do you say, Sakura-chan?"

"No."


	5. world

**Title:** world

**Theme:** none

**Note:** I didn't pick a prompt this time. Just wrote this and didn't know where else to post it, so I placed it in here. Kinda AU-ish.

**Word Count:** 595

* * *

Sakura can remember when she and Naruto and Sasuke were children and everything was alright, beautiful, completely wonderful.

She and Naruto would go over to the Uchiha backyard (because everyone knew the Uchiha's had the biggest backyard in the entire neighborhood—hell, they even had their own _district!_) and Sasuke would pull himself away from the comforts of his emo-corner and play outside for once.

Then they'd spend the day climbing trees and eating ramen and laughing and playing tag and essentially being children.

But then they grew up and the Uchiha backyard became Lenny's Diner, and there was no more Uchiha district, no more Uchiha family, no more Sasuke.

They grew up and Naruto moved away, and there was no more playing tag, no more eating ramen, no more fun.

And when Naruto moved away and Sasuke forgot himself, Sakura was left alone. So she played tea party by herself and pretended to be a princess that didn't get rescued by herself and refused to grow up by herself.

She had to, eventually. Sasuke and Naruto were gone and she couldn't be a kid anymore.

So she put on make up and fussed over clothes and thought differently about (other) boys and met Ino.

And, like Naruto and Sasuke, she learned to forget.

She still sees Sasuke sometimes, in the hallways at school, or around town, sometimes in the mall. He always has this tired look that he always wears, no matter where he is or who he's with.

He's surrounded all the time in school, clearly the student body's Mr. Popular, but he never seems to enjoy all the faceless people hanging off of him for his wealth and influence.

He is still an Uchiha, and he is still powerful, still rich, still lonely, still Sasuke. Except his family is gone, and Sakura is gone, and Naruto is gone.

Sasuke is alone too.

Sakura has no idea how Naruto is doing. And she sometimes thinks he may have it worst out of all three of them. Because while she and Sasuke don't talk anymore, she sees him sometimes and she's in Konoha, she's at home.

Naruto's off in some other city, left to make new friends by himself. That wouldn't be hard though, because it's Naruto. He would be alright by himself.

He could start anew and leave Sasuke and her behind.

Sakura tells herself she's forgotten. But she passes by Lenny's Diner and she remembers how they used to play there back when it wasn't a food joint selling greasy burgers, back when there were trees and a tree house and a swing. Back when it was Uchiha property.

She sees Sasuke in her Chemistry class fourth period and she remembers how he used to fight with Naruto on everything. She remembers when he wasn't so emotionless or tired or looking like he was sick of the world. She remembers when he talked about his brother like he was a god. She remembers when he used to smile.

And every time she smells ramen in the air, she can't help but remember Naruto and his crazy ramen fetish and his beautiful eyes and his sunny blonde hair and even sunnier smile.

Sakura tells herself she's forgotten, but she cannot bring herself to throw out that framed picture on her bedside of the three of them together.

Sakura. Naruto. Sasuke.

The three of them made her entire world.

But Sakura's trying her best to forget, and so one Saturday afternoon, she throws out that picture and doesn't look back.

Her world is broken.


	6. hero

**Title:** damsel

**Theme:** fantasy, #50 hero

**Note: **This is canon, even though it says 'fantasy' up there. I really can't seem to stick to the theme, huh?

**Word Count:** 391

* * *

It's nearly five in the morning and you aren't tired yet. You're not sleepy yet.

You're in bed, covered to the chin with your softsoftsoft comforter and you can't fall asleep.

You always hate this time of night, when you're left with nothing to do except think. And remember. And regret.

And you regret a lot of things. You regret not training hard enough as a kunoichi, breaking your friendship with Ino as a child, treating Naruto so harshly as a genin, not being strong enough to stop Sasuke from leaving as a member of team seven.

Not giving Sasuke a reason to stay, as Sakura.

You curl into a ball and try not think anymore. Or to at least think of other, less painful thoughts.

You think of Sai and his fake smile (you know he's trying). Of Kakashi and the warmth of his hand on your head. Of Naruto and his ability to never give up on you.

You think of Sasuke and you feel like crying.

But you're not the same little girl anymore, who was so useless and pathetic and _weak_.

And god knows you've been trying. You've been trying and trying to catch up with them, and you've been training and healing until you can barely feel your legs.

But they'll always be stronger than you. Always. And you've never been able to surpass them.

And it hurts. It hurts you won't ever be truly recognized as someone who won't ever need to be saved. You're always being saved. By Naruto, by Kakashi, by Sai, by _Sasuke_.

But you're _not_ weak anymore. Why can't they see that? Why can't they see that all you've ever wanted was to be able to fight without being pushed aside, without having to let someone else handle your battle for you. To take hits for you. To die for you.

Because you can very well take care of yourself, even if they seem to think you can't. All your training and your healing and your learning will be for nothing if you aren't made to show it.

And next time, when they try to push you away, to save you from being hit, you won't let them. You're not going to be the damsel in distress anymore.

You are Haruno _fucking_ Sakura and you can destroy boulders with your little finger. You can heal half-dead bodies and repair broken bones.

You are not weak. Not anymore.


	7. morning

**Title:** PMS

**Theme: **none

**Note: **asdfghjkl I really should just stop with the prompts and just write whenever my muse hits me.

**Word Count:** 380

* * *

Sakura scowled at them.

"Seriously? Seriously, you guys? IT'S TOO EARLY FOR THIS SHIT."

Naruto and Sasuke both blinked at their usually mild friend, pausing in the middle of their spat.

"Sakura-chan?" Naruto asked tentatively, placing a hand on her (oversized, le gasp) forehead. "Are you feeling—?"

She smacked his hand away with a growl. "No. It's six in the fucking morning and Kakashi-sensei isn't here when he specifically said to be on time or we'll be left behind AND OH MY GOD, IT'S TOO EARLY FOR YOUR YAOI LOVE FEST, OKAY?"

Both boys looked at each other and then at Sakura. Incidentally, they ignored the 'yaoi love fest' part, as Sakura looked really angry, and they did not want to be beat into the ground, thank you very much.

"You should know by now that Kakashi-sensei's always late for these things, Sakura-chan," Naruto said nervously, and Sasuke nodded at him, acknowledging his bravery and also mentally preparing his grave after Sakura was done with him.

"You shut up right now, Naruto Uzumaki, or god help me, I WILL POUND YOU INTO DUST."

With a strangled 'eep,' Naruto remained quiet.

Sasuke tried his luck. "Sakura, you're being immature," he said seriously. Her eyes darkened considerably.

Naruto shook his head at his fellow teammate. Sakura was going to murder him, crush or not.

The Uchiha, apparently thinking the dobe's 'cutting motion across throat' was a go-signal, only resumed his battle tactic. "Stop whining so much and—"

And Sakura's fist became acquainted with him face.

Sasuke was sprawled on the ground a few feet away, with a hand on his cheek and a dumbfounded expression on his face. He stared up at her with wide eyes. "You—you hit me!"

"Yeah," Sakura growled, a hand on her hip, moving to stand in front of him. Sasuke refused to think of that image being kinda sexy.

"Sakura-chan, you just bruised his face," Naruto pointed out from behind a tree, a safe distance away. "His fan girls will kill you for that."

Sakura scowled again, but thought over it for a few seconds. Sasuke waited in apprehensive silence. "Fine. He doesn't need an arm to look cool, right?"

Naruto sighed, covering his eyes.

This wouldn't be a pretty sight, that's for sure.


	8. dawn

**Title: **palette

**Theme: **romance, #2 dawn

**Note: **I never really mentioned any names in here, but since this is a series of SasuSaku stories, you can assume that artist is Sasuke and the person speaking is Sakura. :)

**Word Count:** 514

* * *

"Paint me a picture," I ask, curled up on the love seat, a blanket draped over my shoulders.

He glances at me once, before staring at the blank canvas resting on his easel.

"Paint me a picture," I continue, "with the colors of the sky today."

There is a large open window that takes up almost the whole of one side of the wall. It always remains open, except on days when there's bad weather, which isn't often. Most of the time it's left untouched, to let the breeze in, sometimes birds even fly in from outside.

As usual the window is wide open, and the world is displayed so phenomenally that you can't help but stare at it for a minute or two. The dawn is approaching fast, and the sky is a lovely palette of pinks and blues and oranges and a little bit of purple here and there.

I want a painting made of solely those colors, and I make sure to tell him so.

I remain on the love seat and wrap the blanket closer to my body; his home resides very high up in the mountains, and it gets awfully cold early in the mornings.

Still, I've been waking up to scenarios like this for so long already, the thought of mornings spent at home in my own apartment seems so strange now.

His house is a very plain one. There are only four rooms, the room where I sleep in, the kitchen, a bathroom, and then the room with the window.

Every day I'd get up very early, just when the sun is starting to rise on the tree tops, and head to the window room, still dragging my comforter along with me, where he would already be sitting in front of his easel as if he'd spent the entire night there. He very well might have actually, it wouldn't have been a surprise if he did.

I don't know if he's just an early riser, or what. But he'd always be there before me, no matter what time I'd get up. He'd always be sitting on that stool and staring at a blank white canvas, the same one every day, drinking a mug of strong black coffee, probably to help him stay awake. There'd also consistently be a mug of coffee for me, with sugar and milk because he knows I don't like the taste of strong, bitter java in the morning.

That canvas is always blank. He'd stare at it and stare at it, and sometimes pick up a paintbrush and dip it into blue or black or pink or red or green or yellow-but then he stares some more at his blank canvas and then puts the brush down, as if the color would dirty its pure surface.

But today is different. I want him to paint me a picture today.

"I want a painting made of dawn," I whisper quietly.

He doesn't seem to hear me, but stares at the canvas for another long moment. Then he picks up his brush and creates.


End file.
